Autumn grows near and my heart empties,
Preparing the soil of my soul
For all the seeds that have yet to be planted,
For all the dreams that have yet to be dreamt.
Autumn grows near and the leaves turn
Golden on their limbs;
Branches brilliantly illuminated,
As if glowing from within.
Autumn is a welcome guest,
As she breathes cool air
across sun-drenched skin
And whispers faint tales of a time of rest
Which is not so very far away.
